Clandestine (Dark Dramione)
by olyviahrose
Summary: Clandestine: kept secret or done secretively. Hermione has a secret hidden underneath her sleeves.
1. Clandestine Summary and Trigger Warning

summary

Clandestine: kept secret or done secretively.

Hermione has a secret hidden underneath her sleeves.

trigger warning

*This story has depictions of suicidal thoughts, self harm, and suicide attempts, along with strong cussing, feels, and tragedy. Reader discretion is advised.*


	2. Prologue

prologue

A sharp blade can be a refreshing change of pace when everything else in life seems irrevocably dull.

If one were to ask Hermione Granger what her favorite pastime was, they could easily be considered fairly stupid, as any normal person could guess in half of a second that she would say "reading." However, while the façade that Hermione Granger put on was quite convincing, the words in the books no longer had the spice they used to, and she found herself bored, lost after only a few sentences comprehended on her part.

Nothing, in fact, seemed to be as fulfilling as it used to be.

She had taken to staying in the head boy and girl dorm during quidditch matches, simply passing it off as not feeling very well. In all reality, she simply felt bored of watching people hit bludgers back and forth with no immediate results, only to get a headache from all the cheering in the end.

Her favorite foods seems tasteless, and as of recently, she had found eating quite bothersome, never going down to the great hall for meals anymore. She took to eating light snacks whenever she began feeling lightheaded, just enough to get her by. The effort it took to eat full meals felt like a pointless burden that could easily be surpassed by simply ignoring her hunger.

Oftentimes, Hermione found herself falling forward into her mattress, despite not being tired, just to curl up in a ball under the pile of quilts and pretend she didn't exist, lying silently in the darkness.

Hermione was, undeniably, depressed. While she'd never admit it out loud, everytime someone stupid enough to question her favorite pastime does so, she thinks to herself that right now, she'd like to be sitting alone in the bottom of a scalding hot shower with a blade against her skin.

Cutting had become an addiction to her. She knew it didn't help in the long run; it never did. But she liked the pain. It was like, for a moment, she didn't have to focus on anything else. Watching the blood taint the once clear water had become her aesthetic.

None of her friends knew what was wrong. All they understood is that she hardly ate, and very rarely left the prefects' dorm to be with them. When she did come out, she never smiled, and rarely talked. In their classes, she had stopped providing answers, and when teachers requested them from her, she always replied with a monotone, "I don't know."

There was indeed something wrong with Hermione Granger, and every student in Hogwarts knew it. The Golden Trio's princess just wasn't very... golden anymore.

end prologue


	3. Chapter One: Heat

one: heat

Hermione Granger couldn't convince herself, no matter how hard she tried, that the transfiguration classroom wasn't hot. She thought this morning that it would be a wise idea to dress in her winter uniform, simply because her lack of body fat due to undereating, had left her shivering in the early summer-morning chill; alternatively, this uniform also hid the cuts adorning various parts of her body.

However, now it felt as if she was burning up. She could feel small beads of sweat forming on her skin, and found herself quietly panting throughout the lesson, ignoring the eyes of the few people who noticed her distress. She didn't care who they were; she didn't care about anything other than getting out of this class and out of this damn uniform!

The second that Professor McGonagall announced the end of the period, she shot up from the desk she shared with Luna Lovegood, and bolted out of the classroom. She was overheating horribly, and could hardly think straight. The library was always fairly empty during class periods, and it was just within her sights, so she hurriedly made her way to the doors, shoving them open. She spat a quick excuse to the librarian about "needing to find a book to study", which was, to Hermione's relief, apparently a feasible excuse.

Making her way to the back of the library, where the more secluded sections were, she found it to her advantage that she was (for once to her amazement) the only student present at the time. She dropped her bookbag to the ground between two shelves that were parallel against one wall, and sat down beside it, pulling her sweater off hurriedly an chucking it to the floor.

She sighed, scooting against the wall and leaning her body backwards. She allowed herself to close her eyes and tip her head back, feeling slightly better than she had felt in the transfiguration classroom.

It seemed like only moments had passed, when she heard a voice in front of her, causing her to jolt awake and hurriedly shove her arms behind her back. Doing so hid the worst of the damage, but not all of it, as the cuts snaked their way up towards her shoulders.

"Granger what the actual fuck?" She bit her lip, and looked up, as if to learn the identity of who was talking. Not as if she didn't already know of course. Who else could have a voice that was the perfect imitation of a ferret in heat?

"What do you want Malfoy?" Of all the people to find her in such a vulnerable situation, it had to be this douchébag.

"Granger what the fuck did you do to your arms?" He had dropped down to her height, sitting on his knees in front of her and eyeing the portion of the cuts that were still visible. His grey eyes darkened and he looked up to glance at her face.

"I don't know what you're talking about Malfoy. Besides, what the fuck do you care?" She removed her arms from behind her back as she stood. He already saw them, so what was the point of hiding them anymore?

She heard an audible gasp as he stared at the damage. She ignored the sound and picked up her sweater, beginning to put it back on. He stood and leaned over, reaching to grab and pull it away, only to have her remove herself from arms length and continue dressing. She picked up her backpack and turned to leave.

"Granger I'm serious, did you fucking cut yourself? Did you do that?" Draco Malfoy was facing many difficult feelings in the moment, seeing the strongest girl he knew with so many scars and new wounds on her arms. Sure, he didn't like her due to blood status, but... He had to admit she had always seemed pretty break-proof.

"It doesn't matter Malfoy. You don't care. Use it against me if you must, I don't even fucking care anymore. Do whatever you want," she turned to him. He halfway expected to see tears in her eyes, but instead found them emotionless. "What's wrong with me doesn't matter to you at all, I'm not stupid. You just want to use this knowledge to your benefit. Besides, according to you I'm nothing but a filthy mudblood. So do me a favor and just forget it. Leave me to suffer by myself. Don't pretend to come in here and genuinely want to know what is wrong with me. I know how you work, it's just going to turn into a way for you to degrade me more than you already fucking do!" And with that, Hermione Granger turned on her heels, and left a dumbfounded Draco Malfoy behind.

end one


	4. Chapter Two: Avoidance

two: avoidance

If Hermione Granger thought that she could easily avoid Draco Malfoy's prying, she was very, very wrong. There happened to be one large inconvenience that made avoiding crossing paths with the blond-haired boy nearly impossible: they were head boy and head girl.

This had been a normal thing for them since the beginning of the year. Naturally, they had simply gone about their business ignoring eachother, never being in their common room at the same time, remaining separate to the best of their ability.

However, at the end of the day when Hermione gave the password to the painting at the entrance of their common room, she discovered that her intents to simply pretend that the situation in the library had never happened, would not go as she intended.

Hermione found Draco seated at the bottom of the stairs leading from the common room, to her own room, effectively blocking her desired path. She sighed, and gripped the strap of her book bag tightly, walking towards the stairs. She planned to simply go around him if she could. Unfortunately, Draco stood from his sitting position, and moved his arms to block either side of the path she intended to take.

"Move Malfoy. Now. I'm not in the mood to deal with this shit tonight," she spat, attempting to dodge under one of his arms. He blocked her, pushing her away from the stairs with a gentle shove.

"No. We need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about you dimwit! Leave me alone!" She moved to go past him again, but he stepped forward, grasping her shoulders, and pushing her backwards until the back of her knees hit the common room couch. The force of the piece of furniture caused her legs to weaken, which effectively made her upper half drop onto the soft cushions.

Before she could move from the position, Draco dropped onto the couch beside her, placing both of his legs acrossed her lap, holding her in her place.

"We aren't leaving this spot until you start talking," he stated, folding his hands patiently acrossed his lap, and leaning back against the arm of the couch.

"Get off of me you dumbass!" She pressed her hands against his legs, trying to shove them off of her lap. "There is nothing to talk abo-" He clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Listen Granger, I'm serious we aren't leaving until you talk," he ignored her struggling and continued, "there is very obviously something wrong an-- Ew did you just lick me?? " He pulled his hand away quickly, wiping it on his jeans and grimacing.

"There isn't anything to talk about! It is so fucking obvious, okay? I'm fucking depressed. Yeah, I slice up my own fucking skin but it makes me feel better! No one I have tried to talk to about this understands, I'm used to dealing with it alone! I don't want to talk to you about this shit! Now get the fuck off of me, and leave me the fuck alone!"

By the end of her talking there were tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was hiccupping every couple seconds. She burried her face in her hand, sobs wracking her body, feeling entirely pathetic.

"Granger..."

"Shut up! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone! I want to fucking die right now! Just leave me alone to die!"

"Stop it. Now. I don't want to hear you say that," he grabbed her wrists, and pulled her hands away from her tear-soaked face. "Hermione," he faltered. He'd never said her name before. "Erm... Granger... I'm sorry... For maybe being a little bit of a... Twat the whole time we've know eachother. I'm really sorry... If I had know how bad things were for you I never would have--"

"Shut the fuck up Malfoy," she whispered. "Stop pretending like you care. I'm nothing but a filthy mudblood to you..."

Draco moved his legs off of her lap slowly. He felt horrible. He couldn't help feeling that maybe, just maybe he had taken the wrong approach about this. It was true, he realized as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his palms. He had never referred to Hermione Granger as any more than someone below his status, unworthy of his respect.

"I'm nothing but a filthy mudblood to you..." He could hear the hurt in her voice. He never understood how badly the term had effected her.

It wasn't until Draco Malfoy turned to apologize to her once again, that he realized she was already gone.

end two


End file.
